For many Jan 1st is the year mark where we give ourselves the gift of self-reflection. The time for black-eyed peas and resolutions. The time we collectively allow ourselves a reset button, a time of celebration (hedonism) and new beginnings. I extend this time through my birthday which is Jan 7th. I get an extra week to think about my adventures and regrets. I get an extra week to wallow in my failures and success.

On a whirlwind trip to CA I visited my Aunt Lucinda and Grandfather Lucas in Fairfax and he gave me some paintings of his. That was DEC 7th, my friend Bernie’s birthday, and we magically ran into each other at one of Marin’s Trader Joe’s (where he works). Synchronicity is my religion.

Jan 7 2012 I fly down to CA to visit my mother for my birthday, visit my Aunt and wander around a beach cliff under a full moon encountering an owl and a deer on my way.

In the end of January my housemates and I all moved out for 7 weeks for renovations because of a mysterious and intense water explosion in the house. I called this 6 weeks in exile and I blogged about it HERE

during that time I got to stay and play slumber party with a number of good friends and lovely folks. A BIG THANKS FOR YOUR HOSPITALITY!

FEB- I performed with my collaborator and friend Lillian Rossetti at homomentum. you can see the dance video here.

I also applied to Risk/Reward Festival AND Conduit Dance+ festivals in PDX. Performed in Olympia with CJ and the Dolls. I did my best to finish the kickstarter prizes from DEC’s GENDERFANTASY

March/April- Performed with CJ and the Dolls again at Peep Show in PDX, found out I got into RISK/REWARD festival! and began to rehearse with the newly minted DECEPTiCONS. This was also the time when I got insane nosebleeds!

May- Celebrated springtime in the woods with friends.

June- Pdx gay pride and the RISK/REWARD festival

July – got doored by a car, and on the same night opened a weekend show at Conduit PDX for the Dance+ festival

DEC– Performed at Cracks in the Ivory Tower, was interviewed by the Pride Review, and performed alongside some of PDX’s finest with infamous RuPauls’ Drag Race Queens Alaska Thunderfuck and Jinkx Monsoon!

SO there you have it. There are some things I’m leaving out of course. But, I believe if you have something fun and exciting to say, SHARE IT… so others can join in on the fun. I’ll happily invite you to any of my more serious dance performances where I DO get into the dark and gritty… you know… catharsis and all that.

In not specific order a list of flash memories from my recent 76hour trip to SF.

“You make me laugh, not funny ha-ha funny my-gut-hurts”

I am not carrying that printer up 5 flights of stairs

I want to watch exactly 45seconds of Bay Area primetime

“Oh honey I’ll get you some vegan food, how about some ice wrapped in lettuce?”

–bitch the only thing goin in MY ice is vodka

Showing my friend the castro for the first time- practicing meditation in front of Harvey
Milk’s old storefront- feet are roots, chest is lifted feed are roots we are here in Dolores park.

Marathon 4 dear friends visit. 1 an ASL interpreter loves me up with breakfast and affirmation. 2. She loves me and she doesn’t give a fuck about her advertising job. 3. We piss in Maiden Alley and get caught. 4. Takes me to Rose and Sword, the most hidden magick store in SF.

Monique Jenkinson’s “Instrument” at COUNTERPULSE- gnawing on air while screaming like a cat caught in your nose.

@ Aunt Charlie’s “Bitch I got 10,000 dollars AND a gun- gotta bump?”

And then Friday

My grandfather, feeble and old, sassy and artistically prolific generously gives me two paintings from his collection and tells me Ansel Adams hand picked him to experiment with polaroid film when he went to SFAI.

(which made me remember when I went there when I was doing a summer program)

Thinking of my father, thinking of his father my grandfather. Thinking of my mother and her ex-lover my other mother. Thinking of San Francisco. Thinking of how curious my families lives are intertwined and so disparate. I’m a connector between families which barely exist except through the fact I was born, and I have memory of my fathers hands.

turns out my mother never partied at the stud.

My mother didn’t go to protests either.

My other mother did once get arrested for protesting nuclear power plants in CA.

Lately I’ve been captivated by objects and objectification.
I’ve been thinking about how the object of dance is the memory people perceive and warp in their minds once the inoculation has occurred (during the live performance itself) and time passes.